Naught but a Monster
by QueenGen
Summary: Sequel to Beauty is the Beast. Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected. Rated T for sensitive subject SUCH AS SLASH! HXD, and other things. Rating may be raised
1. Not Quite Disney

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster"

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: First of all, BIG HUGE AWESOME thanks to my beta and friend Muse, who read my first story and now is helping me not make as many mistakes in this one. She's great hehe.

On a second note, if you got this email twice, a huge apology on my end. My computer got wonky (yes, wonky) and refused to cooperate. Please forgive me.

Enjoy.

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Chapter One: Not Quite Disney

It was a beautiful sunny day, much like it usually was in the summer at the Manor. The trees of the forest were the brightest green where it reached the clearing, and darkened as it went further and further out, spanning to cast a green hue over the vast landscape. The walls were now spotless stone. Each brick practically gleamed the sunlight. The sunrise crept through the large window in Draco's, or rather, Harry and Draco's, bedroom. Yet, once again, as the blonde awoke, he found the bed empty.

The first time he'd found the bed empty and cold when he awoke, no more than a week ago, he'd begun to panic. When Harry found him nearly tearing up every room to find him, he'd calmed his lover with a hug and eventually a kiss as the other held onto him as if he'd been gone for days. Each day, this happened when Harry would be out of bed by the time he woke up. The Gryffindor finally told him that he was standing on the balcony where Draco had fought for their love so many nights ago.

So, this time, he took a peek outside the window, and saw Harry staring out at the sunrise. Draco opened the door as quietly as he could and shut it just as quietly. Reaching out to the raven-haired beauty, he rested a hand on the distracted man's shoulder. He didn't jump, as Draco had anticipated, but he did turn to see that it was, indeed, Draco. Bending down slightly, the blonde touched his lips to Harry's. To his delight, Harry kissed back. The kiss only lasted a moment, but when they pulled apart, the Slytherin was satisfied. That was, until he looked into the green eyes, which enraptured him so, and saw the guilt that scared him each morning he saw it. It was becoming more frequent.

Actually, ever since Harry ceased waiting for him to wake up, there was a worried line between his eyes that made Draco, in turn, worry about the man he'd grown to love. And he noticed other things about his lover that was enough to concern any man when it was down to their lover and their health. Shadows were beginning to grow underneath Harry's eyes, unnatural to his youthful age. His skin was growing to a paleness that alarmed Draco, seeing the man once tanned and fit. There were other things, smaller things that Harry seemed to be experiencing as well. But those were enough to make Draco wish he could just gather up the man in his arms and force him to tell him what was wrong.

"Good Morning," Draco whispered in his lover's ear. He took a small delight when he felt the skin on Harry's bare back become more rigid as a shiver trailed down his spine.

"G'mornin'," Harry said, his voice airy as if he were yawning. Draco pulled back after a moment before taking the man's hand and pulling him down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Draco had discovered he had a very strong fondness for cooking. After all of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pancakes that a man would ever want (or even try) to eat in a lifetime, Harry had decided to give Draco a new cookbook that was specifically for beginners. With it, Draco learned to make oatmeal, spaghetti, grilled cheese and other kinds of easily made food. Draco quickly moved back to his more advanced book and by the end of the month, he'd become a professional. In fact, his cooking skills had led to one of the more awkward conversations that he'd had with Harry.

It was dinnertime, and Draco had managed to make a turkey potpie for each of them. Of course, it ended up with the blonde having more flour on him than in the pie, but it still became a success. Harry was stunned.

"Draco, this is so good!" he said through his third or fourth bite of it. The cook picked up his fork and scooped some into his mouth. With a proud smirk, he agreed with the Gryffindor that he was, indeed, quite the cooker of turkey potpies. When he looked up, he watched the other shift in his chair uneasily. Patiently, he waited for Harry to say whatever was on his mind. "Draco," he finally sighed, not looking directly at him, "Don't you want to…you know…leave?"

The blonde cocked his head to the side then frowned. "What do you mean? I go outside plenty." Harry shook his head.

"No, I mean…haven't you wanted to leave this whole place?" he continued. "The Manor, the grounds, the forest; haven't you wanted to leave this place at all?" At the end of his question he sounded close to exasperation, so Draco did his best to humor him.

"Well of course I've thought about it," he replied. "After all, I've been here for nearly five years." He picked up a forkful of his food and ate it before swallowing and continued. "But, I was a Death Eater, Harry. Not only that, but I've been on the run for who knows how long. I think if I were even seen in any section of England I would be killed on the spot. It's not something I welcome."

Harry frowned. "But this food you make is so…so good, Draco," he said, sounding almost desperate. "You could be a gourmet chef, a famous one in fact, if you were out in the outside world. Isn't it a waste to stay here simply because you are scared?"

Draco was shocked. It was a provocation and he knew it. It was an attempt to get him angry; to get him to do something that Harry could manipulate him into doing. He knew because he'd done it before, and he often commended Harry on manipulating him into such a state of gullibility, but not this time. Instead he nodded and stood up, storing the rest of his meal away in the fridge. "I was sorted into Slytherin because I know how to protect myself and keep myself alive," he thinned his lips a little and shook his head. He leaned back against the fridge once he shut the door and crossed his arms.

"What concerns me is why you'd like to risk my life to cook food for people. You don't want me to cook for you anymore; is that what you're saying? Would you rather me I cook for other people? If that's the case, Harry Potter, then I'll never touch a kitchen counter again."

By now, Harry looked guilty enough that Draco knew he got his message across. No, he was not going to leave. Besides, he was happy just cooking for Harry. After all, even if he did go out into the world and sold his services as a chef, would he really want anyone knowing that he was lowered to doing a house elf chore such as cooking? No, he would rather still be known as the arrogant prat who went missing one day than a reformed Death Eater. It was far too Gryffindor of him to do such a thing. Not to mention that Harry was the Gryffindor of the two, not him.

"No, I love your cooking Draco," Harry said with a sigh. After that, the subject was dropped. Still, the Slytherin wondered if something else had been on Harry's mind that day.

Draco cooked up an omelet for Harry and made himself, per custom, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When he set out the plates and went to fetch the coffee, Harry spoke.

"Draco, you do know that making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich now that you can make such great meals is rather a waste? Why do you eat it every morning?"

Draco smirked. "Just because your palette has a lot to be desired doesn't mean that I have to give up the delicacy which is the classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich on toast." Harry gave a small, amused smile and tucked into his meal. When he was barely halfway through, he pushed it away, announcing he was full. "But you hardly ate any of it, Harry. Just a few more bites," Draco said, slightly worried.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not my mother, Draco. I'm full, so I'm going to not eat the whole thing."

"But that's not the point! You've been eating less and less. You've lost so much weight that your clothes are almost falling off of you!"

"No I haven't," Harry argued immediately.

"Yes you have," Draco retorted.

"No!"

"Really, Harry, I would have to say that - -"

"Oh, what does it matter?!" Harry shouted. Draco shot back in surprise. "Most people would be happy to see their lovers losing weight, and would not be chiding them for it. You don't have to worry about me; I'm just fine taking care of myself!" During his outburst, his face had turned red in anger.

Draco blinked.

Draco blinked again.

Slowly he picked up his food, untouched, and threw it in the garbage pail. Then he walked out of the kitchen, into the room of many couches. Many had been discarded after the curse had been lifted, but there were still enough to make the room more than comfortable. He sat down on one and simply stared out the window, the morning light rising just above the trees on the other side of the house. The shadow cast on the trees turned the forest into a dark and ominous sea.

"Perfect mood lighting," Draco thought with a grim smile.

It didn't take too long for Harry to come into the living room. The blonde didn't say anything.

"I finished the omelet," the raven-haired man, who seemed so much a boy when they fought, muttered.

Still, Draco said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said. "I didn't have any right to yell at you like that. You were only worried about me."

Draco finally turned his head and looked at the dark-haired man, who looked highly abashed at what he'd done. But that was not what Draco saw.

He saw the pallor of Harry's skin.

He saw little twitches of pain in the man's temples.

He saw the shadows under his eyes.

"Harry, what have you been hiding from me?" he asked. "I promise I'll listen to you and…and…please, just tell me." He would have nearly laughed at himself if he knew how he sounded: desperate, pleading, hopeless.

The other was silent for a long moment, but then he looked out the window.

"I want to leave."

T B C

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Please Review. 


	2. Greenfinch and Linnet Bird

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster"

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: Again, muchas gracias to Muse. She's kickin'. She beta'd this chapter, and gave it its name. Which also means I need to give thanks (and my children . ) to Stephen Sondheim, whom that title is dedicated to via Sweeney Todd. Review replies shall be saved for the end of the chapter. Thanks by the way! Another not would be, notice that this story is definately taking longer than the other one. That is because the other one took me about twenty hours, sitting on my tush, just writing nonstop. I don't have the favor of time this time so I have to do it when I can. Still though...review. hehe.

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Chapter Two: Green Finch and Linnet Bird 

Draco wished he could have been a little more shocked. He'd seen it coming. Somehow, without even realizing it, he knew that Harry had wanted to leave.

After all, who could miss the longing gazes he sent out of each window he passed by?

No, it didn't matter how much Draco would or could ever try, it would not please Harry. His lover wouldn't ever be happy behind these stone walls for too long. He would be stupid if he didn't know of the unhappiness that Harry felt. And as sure as he was a Malfoy, Draco would not allow Harry to remain unhappy anymore. With that in mind, Draco finally spoke up.

"I am no longer enough for you, then?" he asked. Harry's eyes met his own. "Then go. What's keeping you here?" His gaze moved away from the green eyes he cherished so much. He stood and turned his back on Harry, prepared to walk away.

"Don't be daft," Harry said to his back, making Draco stop after only taking two steps. "What keeps me here is your damn determination to stay stuck here for the rest of our lives."

The blonde turned around. "If my interest in my own survival hinders you, then why are you even here?" Harry looked frustrated and was about to speak up again, but Draco stopped him. "No, I'm honestly curious, Harry. We've talked about this before, when you've found me worthy enough of your time to talk about it at all. You know that if I go out there, I'll be a dead man." Draco curled his fingers into a fist and repeated more fiercely, "You _know_ this."

"And I _also_ know, Draco, that if you would just drop these Merlin damned prejudices of yours that you insist on holding onto, then people might listen to you and not kill you at all."

Draco roughly stuck his fist in Harry's face and ticked off each finger as he spoke. "One, that idea alone is ludicrous. They wouldn't kill me, hm? So then, why don't I just pop off to the Ministry of Magic and have a bit of tea with the Minister? I'm sure he'd love to listen to what I have to say, even if I were to 'drop my prejudices." The next finger went up. "Two, I am _not_ going to drop my own beliefs just because you're bored! You want to leave? The door's right there, Potter, where it has always fucking been!" Realizing that his shouting was getting quite loud, he took a deep breath.

It was true, what those muggle psychiatrists said (though he'd never say that to anyone), that it was often easier to be angry than act on whatever emotion you're really feeling. He thought he'd been genuinely angry. Deep down, however, he knew that the only thing he could feel was betrayal and disappointment. Betrayal that Harry would want to leave, and disappointment that Draco couldn't make the man stay. He would not let Harry see them, these two emotions of weakness. He stepped back.

It seemed that he had failed in this task. Instead of hearing Harry leaving the Manor, he felt the gentle touch of hands, hands that so eagerly embraced him time and time again. Pathetically, he fell into the embrace and grabbed at any part of the Gryffindor he could manage. This turned out to be his back as his arms hooked under Harry's.

"Draco," he said quietly into his ear. Draco felt the hands begin to run through his hair. He nearly melted. "Draco, you know I _do_ love you, right? I mean, how many times do I need to tell you that I love you The fact that I helped you break the spell should be enough proof that I fell, head over heels, in love with you enough to bring you back to the confident person you used to be.

"What happened to the Draco Malfoy who used to strut about the school, oozing with enough confidence that would have done a few Hufflepuffs some good if they'd had a fragment of it? Where's the only one who stood against Harry Potter? I mean, sure, I like that you don't taunt me anymore," Draco could feel Harry's lips form a smile against his cheek where his face was resting. "Or try to hex me. But still, even under the curse you weren't half as scared as you are now."

Draco would want to admit that he hated talking about his feelings. After all, feelings were bad for one who strove for a stony, cold demeanor as all Malfoy's were prone to do. However, when it came to his lover, he always knew the right buttons to press to make Draco speak. "I have something to lose now, something I…something I guess I've lost." Harry, about to interrupt again, was hushed when Draco continued. "Listen to me, you prat. You had your turn." He took another breath and continued.

"I've done the best I could, Harry, the best that I was able to make you happy here. But, if you're not…then I have no right in keeping you here." Draco couldn't imagine ever feeling so depressed in his life, nor so entirely Gryffindor for letting the man be free and happy. The feelings were not well to be mixed. Swallowing down whatever felt like it was going to rise up, Draco added, "But the doors will always open for you, once you're done tormenting the world with your Gryffindor ways."

Draco didn't look at Harry, knowing that there was going to be some sort of smile that would make Draco feel like a complete and total sap. Instead, Draco got up and squeezed the other's hand before walking quickly to another room, not wanting to hear the door shut.

Though, with hearing amplified for what only seemed like that moment, he heard the quiet click as the front door was shut. Closing his eyes, he sank down to the floor of whatever room he'd shut himself in, fighting off the urge to do something as stupid as cry.

No, there were more important things to think about. One of them was the most obvious. What the hell was he going to do now? He realized now how stupid it was to revolve one's life around another. Once they were gone, it left you with absolutely nothing to do.

Perhaps this is what Harry felt like. God, Draco hoped not. Because this was just annoying: tortuously annoying.

How long had he been gone? It mustn't have been that long. Rustling his hand out from his robe he held his arm out and looked down at his watch. Ah, it'd been about three minutes. Draco was about to chide himself sternly about it, but, suddenly, something felt off.

It started off small, a slight misbalance in sitting up. Draco stood up to see if the feeling would go away, but when he was fully standing, he suddenly felt as if he were on a thin rail that if he should lean the wrong away, it would result in him falling into whatever darkness fell beneath it. He shut his eyes and found the wall, putting all of his weight against it. The world was still going wobbly, making everything spin and fuzz. "I'm gonna be sick."

Instead, a new sensation began building in his right hand. A dull throbbing pain began in the very tip of his middle finger. It began slowly, but then moved more swiftly. Soon, the pain had devoured his entire hand, changing from the dull pain to a very sharp, more dramatic, pain. He couldn't feel anything but his right hand underneath his robes, which he was holding fervently to his chest. He couldn't hear anything except a faint ringing sound in the tunnel of noise that was closing in on Draco's head. What was that noise? He tried to focus on it, but he felt another stab of pain and the noise grew louder. It was the sound of his screams.

It must have been a while later that he awoke (had he fallen asleep?) for the pain was gone, his throat was hoarse, and he felt rather hungry. He reached his arm up again to look at his watch. He shouted in shock and pulled it back. Slowly, Draco raised his hand again, hoping it had been a trick of the light, but it was true. His entire right hand was covered with scars: contorted and healed and reopened again.

Swiftly, Draco checked the rest of him over and saw that he was otherwise normal. Even the hand that had been horribly mangled was still the same size as it had been when he passed out. Yet, this was too much of a coincidence. The patterns in his hands were the same; the scars in general were too familiar.

Draco could only stare at it as he realized, with growing dread, that this was the hand he'd possessed all those months ago: the hand of The Beast.

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Review Please! 

Review Replies: Silvermane1-I know.

Njferrel- This story ain't done yet, heck, it's merely the beginning! Honestly, I wouldn't leave you hanging at such a state (unless I was in my sadistic period again, era: Helpless Hope).

Slytherins kick BIG BOTTOMS- Yes, I'm witty. Um, you'll discover next chapter, where we go from Draco Vision to Harry Cam. Unless I change my mind from here till...there.

Annicka-Wow, I'm so flattered! Good-golly-gosh!

silvergreyeyes25- I'm glad you like it! Keep reading. By the way, I love Beauty and the Beast too hehe.

Yaoi Fangirl101- Hehehehe. I think you'll guess who the monster is.

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. Please.


	3. Marguerite

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster"

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: Hello again, chums! Thanks a bundle, again, to Muse. -high five-. Umm...nothing else to say at this time.

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Chapter Three: Marguerite

Harry hadn't known what he expected when he left the forest. Perhaps he had imagined a lightening strike? Or, maybe there would be a large parade going on in the middle of town? Even, he thought, a chance that Draco would have tried to stop him by now.

Why didn't Draco come out to retrieve him? He had thought that maybe Draco would see how lonely it could be in that house and come out with him, and forget this whole Death Eater business. Honestly, who would know? Did Draco even know what this town was like? They didn't know a wand from a twig here. Though, there might be one other wizarding family here, or maybe a bunch had moved in while he was gone. Perhaps it was best if Draco stayed home, where he was safe and -.

_Hold on a second!_ Harry shook himself free of these stupid thoughts. If there were wizards in this town he wouldn't have entered it six months later, to see that it was exactly the same as it had been when he first entered the forest under his invisibility cloak. _What have I been looking for anyway?_ Harry asked in silent dismay. _Oh why didn't I just stay back there where I was-_Harry paused in his thoughts. A breeze, a thing that is unheard of at Malfoy Manor, whisked under his nostrils, and swept over his messy hair. He took a huge breath of deep, clean, fresh air and opened his eyes with a new light in them.

For a very long time, Harry just stood there while the wind caressed him in a way that Draco, unfortunately, never could. He held out his hands and felt the breath of nature softly brush over them and under them, running up his arms, and stroking his face. He didn't realize his eyes were closed, and when he did, he slowly opened them, feeling like he were in a daze. Harry hardly expected that when he opened his eyes he'd see his best friend, Ronald Weasley, staring at him like a zombie. He realized what he might have looked like and blushed though he tried not to do so.

"'Arry?" Ron asked, his voice hardly louder than the wind, yet harsher than a cyclone. Harry was afraid that his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets in surprise.

"Hey, Ron," he said with a small grin. Slowly, the redhead walked up to his raven-haired best friend and stopped when he reached a distance that neither could touch each other, but he could see the other fairly. Ron, Harry noticed, hadn't changed at all, except, "Ron did you grow a _beard?!" _

Finally, a soft grin settled on Ron's rough features. "Wow," he said quietly, still astounded, "I thought…we…you aren't dead are you." he said, hardly too factual to be a question. When Harry shook his head in reply, Ron shook his as well. "Mum was so sad when Ginny came home and nearly sobbed the house to the ground, when she said that you would never be coming back." The redhead finally frowned. "I was angry. Angry that, once again, I was left out of all the action: and now? Now I was out of the loop for good. Seriously, was I that bad of a friend that you couldn't even pop by to say hello? Where were you anyway?" Harry sighed.

"Ron, you are, and always will be, my best friend. I love you just as much as I did when we were kids." Ron made a face of mock horror and when Harry realized what he said, he flushed again, "Oh, Ron, grow up."

"Yes, Hermione," Ron returned with a glint of wickedness in his eyes. Harry cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice as quiet as it had been when the two had first reunited. Ron looked down for a moment.

"She's alright for…you know…how she is. I-I went to see her last week and I," a a lump that was hard to swallow caught in his throat and choked his voice. "I think she's getting better, or at least not declining anymore." What wasn't said could remain unheard between such friends as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. _I miss her. _

"That's good," Harry said, also looking away and kicking the dirt at his feet. He felt his friend move closer to him and then there was a very hard, sturdy pat on his back.

"Come on, let's go get a drink," Ron said with a smile. When Harry was about to refuse, since he brought no money, Ron added "On me." He wasn't exactly sure how the other knew he was currently broke, unless he went into his bank account which was, to say quite boldly, far too boring a trip for a bloke's first journey to the outside world in half a year. A pub would be nice, and the alcohol all the better as long as he only had one or two drinks. He couldn't go back to Draco sloshed after all, since Draco probably would never let him out again.

"Alright, but only a few," Harry warned. Ron shrugged with a smile and they both made the quick trip to the local pub. When they were seated, they noticed the emptiness of the area. Usually there were one or two men who came home from work who would stop at the pub to grab a bit of whiskey or maybe a draft of beer. Yet, there was no one there, and when Harry asked what was going on the barman shrugged.

"It's Ginny, most likely," Ron said. When Harry turned his gaze questionably to him, he shrugged. "She's become a spokesperson of sorts. She'll start screaming and ranting about something every so often in a thing called a "rally" and people shout back either with boos or cheers. She's been getting some more cheers recently, but not many. The first time she did it, everyone booed her off the stage, not that I really could blame them.

"What is she rallying?" Harry asked.

"Well, this might surprise you," Harry sat more towards the edge of his seat, listening, "She seems to be running a rally for Malfoy's crimes. She wants to see that he, and any other remaining Death Eater who is trying to reform, are free to do so and should at least be allowed probation." Harry gulped when he realized that Draco, honestly, didn't want to reform. He knew that might have been what Ginny thought, after all he was the boyfriend of the guy who killed off Voldemort, but it wasn't true. The Slytherin, his Slytherin, was still stubborn and haughty and not very withstanding to change: a very drastic change in which he would have to re-evaluate his morals. It was as ludicrous as Ron being a Death Eater. "You alright mate?"

Harry looked up suddenly, shaken from his reverie, and grinned softly. "Sorry, I got distracted by what you said before. How is Ginny by the way?"

"She's good," Ron replied. "I mean, as good as she gets anyway. Though, she does get a little moody from time to time about how she's not dating anybody, and that she'll probably never get a decent boyfriend." They both stopped and thought about what he said, and then they just laughed. "Sorry mate," Ron conceded. "I didn't mean you, you were probably okay, I meant that she is having trouble, what with being in a small town and only going to London every so often. It's hard." They sobered in their giggles.

"But really, Harry, where were you?" he asked. Shifting a little, Ron leaned closer to him; enough that Harry could feel puffs of his breath on his forehead. He damned Ron's dominating height for the millionth time since Ron hit his growth spurt. Harry, holding his drink with one solid grip, took a long gulp of it, downing nearly half of the draft of beer. It was enough to get him slightly buzzed, but even a lightweight can handle a little beer.

"Ah, another story for another time, Ron," he said leaning back. A loud burp and a stretch later, Harry was standing up. "I really should go now." Ron didn't like this idea.

"Leave? But you've only just arrived! Where are you staying?" Ron asked, sounding distraught. "You can stay with us, after all. Your room is always there for you. Of course, I've been using it to store some of my work stuff but I didn't think you'd mind, I can just banish them away in a blink, it's really no trouble at all."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Ron, but I'm already staying with a friend a little ways from here. Don't worry, I'll stop by the Burrow soon enough. I have to prepare myself for your mum's hugs…and food for that matter." They both grinned and, with a parting wave, Harry left the pub. It was dark out, and Harry hid on the side of the pub. Moments later, Ron came out and looked around, then, with a shrug, left off for the Burrow.

Harry hurried to the edge of the woods. As their custom had been, the trees opened and Harry stepped through. The light of the moon was not enough to illuminate his way, so his wand took care of the rest. With nothing more harmful than a stray deer here or there, he found the mansion quite easily. He trudged up to the door and yanked the door open hard enough to let him inside. Shutting it soundly behind him, he walked into the house. "Draco, I'm home!" he shouted. At first he heard nothing, and then the soft patter of footsteps fell upon his ears.

Turning to his right, he saw Draco leaning against the doorframe. It was dark in the room so Harry couldn't much see the other, and the silence of the blonde disquieted him. "Hey," the ebony haired man said quietly, walking up to the other to give him a kiss. When he did so, he noticed that, unlike when he had many times before, Draco flinched. Then, the man proceeded in quickly ending the kiss and stepping away from Harry, walking towards the kitchen. Harry followed. "So, what did you do today?" Again Draco did not answer. "Talk to me, babe," he pleaded.

"I didn't do anything," Draco said finally. "I managed to save you some food that I made earlier: eggplant Parmesan and lasagna. The sauce is in a separate area of the refrigerator if you would like to use that as well." He began walking away, out to the staircase, which led to the bedroom.

Harry reached out to grab his hand to stop him. When their hands connected he felt something familiar, yet utterly uncommon. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't touching Draco's skin, but a leather glove. A glove much like…why would he be wearing it? "Draco?" he asked quietly.

The other seemed to be breathing in a way that proved unhealthy. "I'm going to bed, goodnight," the blonde said in quite a panic. Before he could even say anything else, Draco was gone and moving at full speed up the stairs. Blinking a few times, Harry stared at the place where Draco had been.

Was he angry with Harry for leaving? So much, that he couldn't even touch him without feeling repulsed? Why had he been so quiet? Why was he wearing a glove? Harry found himself none too hungry, and went up the stairs. When he opened his bedroom door, he found the room empty. His heart beat heavy in his chest and he wildly looked around the room, but then he caught a glimpse of light out the window. He turned his head fully and looked out to the balcony where Draco was leaning against the railing, like he had many mornings past.

With a final sigh, Harry readied for sleep and slipped into his bed. It wasn't until he finally felt Draco spoon him from behind that he could finally fall asleep.

* * *

Review Replies-

BlazenFantasy-Well I'm sorry you forgot about it, but I'm also happy that you are happy that...um...that I made you like a story that you hate. Woot! This review made me joyous.

Dastardly-lie-OHMG! It's you! My love! My life! My WORLD!...okay maybe that's a bit drastic but my goodness I missed you dearly. Aw, I miss angry you. I suppose I'll have to put your anger managed self to the test with my story. DUN DUN DUN!

Koruyuha-Nope, he's still a mudblood hatin' pimp daddy.

Heisdragoness18-Ooooo, sounds fun. I love fanvids, though I always have the desire to make one and then I realize I'm not cool enough to.

To all that want to know what's going to happen (aka rest of the reviews basically) you's a gonna have to read to find out -is evil-

Review, please! It's half of the reason why I write...the other half is...well, wouldn't you like to know ;D?


	4. Blackbird

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster"

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: Thanks to Muse for the Beta work, and sorry for the delay.

* * *

Chapter 4: Blackbird

Harry had thought about staying the next day. After all, he'd been able to go outside without anybody freaking out. His friend seemed happy enough to see him as well, so it hadn't been as dramatic as he had initially feared and he knew he could go back. Not to mention that he had Draco's approval.

It seemed strange. Draco was hardly speaking to him today. He had thought, perhaps, it was a bit of soreness at losing the battle they had about Harry leaving the house. Still, for it to carry on into the morning was a bit much and didn't seem like Draco. Sure, he would sulk and make sarcastic comments about it to cover his hurt, but ignoring him completely was not usually the blonde's style. No, it had to be something else. But what was it?

Harry awoke to morning sunlight. It'd been so long since he woke up after the sun had risen, and he glanced over to look at Draco. However, Draco was not in his normal sleeping position. Instead, he was sitting on the bed already dressed, wearing clothes that fit him rather nicely. He wore a striped shirt that was tailored to fit him colored in blues and purples and a pair of dark blue jeans that covered his legs, held up by a simple, yet stunning, black belt. However, the glove yet again concealed his hand. Harry frowned.

"Hey, Dray," he said, his voice hoarse and his mouth drenched in rancid morning breath. "What's with the glove?"

Draco was startled into looking at him. Harry noticed that his eyes were a little red but not much else was revealed to him. Draco shrugged. "I thought it'd be nice to wear it again, you know with it getting colder and everything…"

"Draco, it's spring."

The man paused. "Well, anyway, it's nice to wear," he said with a shrug. He gave a shaky smile than stood. "What would you like for breakfast?" Draco asked. Harry groaned.

"You always ask me that question, you know, but you never make what I want!" Harry complained. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm sorry that I refuse to make you toast, Harry. I am a dignified chef now, with many, many different varieties of pastries, omeletes, sandwiches, and other breakfast goodies in the palm of my hands. Yet all you want is Merlin-be-damned _toast_!" he said, spitting out the word 'toast' as if it were a foul statement. Harry chuckled.

"The day you make it for me, I'll finally stop asking for it," he said and with a grin, stood up to get ready. When he came back to the bedroom after showering, he supposed that Draco had already left to make whatever his special was this morning. To be honest, Harry really did love Draco's cooking. He just liked busting his balls just as much as he had when they were in school together, though maybe in a nicer fashion.

Harry came down the stairs in a simple t-shirt and jeans and slid into the kitchen with the assistance of his socks. Draco rolled his eyes at his lover's behavior but kept his tongue in check. This morning he had made another omelet, this one filled with onions, peppers, and spinach. It looked rather nasty, but Harry would be dead before denying something Draco made. His hunger returned with the fresh air that had been brought to him, he finished off his meal quickly. He managed to look over at Draco's plate and saw that it was barely touched, the blonde with a glazed look in his stormy eyes. "Draco, what're you thinking about?"

Draco blinked a few times then shook his head. "Hm?" he asked. Harry repeated the question. "Oh," he said giving a sort of sheepish smile. "I wasn't really thinking much." Harry let out his breath forcibly through his nose.

"Well whatever you're thinking, you can think about it after you're done eating. Eat!" he commanded. Draco raised a brow and Harry added meekly "Please?" With a snort, Draco tucked in. Yet again, he got distracted, having only a few bites. When he was awakened from his reverie for the second time, he gave up and put the omelet in the fridge for later, reckoning that it would just be better to give up now then to keep letting it get soggy and gross. He did this silently. "Draco, seriously, what's going on in your head of yours?" he felt arms wrap around him and he fell into the comfort eagerly.

"You know just…" Harry breathed upon his neck, making gooseflesh rise up from his right leg all the way up his spine to the top of his neck. "…thinking about…" Harry made a move again by bringing his lips to Draco's neck and pressing a soft, dry kiss upon his pale neck. Draco shivered. "T-t-things." he finished in a whisper. Harry smiled.

"Things?" he asked, his voice coated in a seductive tone. Draco nodded briefly. "What sort of things?" he further questioned. Draco tried to remember. He did his best to try to think of what the hell could have been going on in his mind. As he tried, he also failed for the obstacle was none other than Harry. The Gryffindor himself was making quite a nuisance of himself, making – oh, that felt quite nice - it hard for Draco to think. Draco turned around and planted a kiss upon Harry's lush lips.

The kiss started out innocently enough, the lips of each lover stroking the other's in a way that showed their true compassion and tenderness towards each other. As their lips caressed, their fingers danced. Draco's hands found Harry's butt and kept them firmly there, squeezing a cheek occasionally to make a beautiful sound of want come out of his lover's lips. After only a few squeezes, Harry had enough and he thrust his tongue in and parted Draco's lips and the world began to melt.

Somehow they'd ended up on the couch, half naked, Harry lying on top of Draco, each one eying the other appreciatively. Harry smiled and stroked Draco's soft, perfect cheek with the back of his callused hand. "So beautiful," he whispered. Usually when he said this, a spark would start in Draco's eyes of gratitude and lust. Yet, this time, something shattered.

It was something small and nondescript, but it was noticeable enough that Harry pulled back as Draco shut his eyes with a sigh. "Draco," he whispered in the other's ear. "Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded. Instead of trying to back out of it, Draco only shook his head "Why not?" he breathed in the same, calming manner.

Draco remained silent for a moment, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in order to remain calm and keep focused. He could not fall to the whim of his lover just because he knew just what buttons to push to keep him happy. Draco could not reveal what was tormenting him inside right now, because he was not sure what it was. Harry would fret and…and not to mention that he may become repulsed by what he saw.

That was what the blonde feared, of course. But what was there to dislike if it went away as soon as it came? In fact, he would check his hand just as soon as they were done. It was right then that he noticed Harry tugging at the glove to pull it off.

Draco sprang up and pushed Harry off of him, panting as he pulled his glove firmly back on his hand. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Draco asked. Harry was about to answer but Draco narrowed his eyes. "That was your plan wasn't it? To get me babbling like an idiot after you pleasure me. Well, well, well, Potter, use thine enemy's weakness as an advantage as they say. Congratulations, how utterly _Slytherin_ of you to attempt manipulating me." By this time, Harry had sprung away from the couch and was now just as emotional as Draco.

"Oh please, you're surpassing Slytherin more than I ever could. Why won't you tell me the reason you're wearing the glove?" Harry growled back.

"I don't want to," Draco shouted back in a petulant manner. "I don't have to tell you every sodding detail of my life, Harry Potter. I just said I wanted to wear it, if you can't accept that then it's your own, Merlin-be-damned fault!"

They both stood there panting. For a moment, each forgot their anger in order to catch their breath. Harry was the first to come to his senses. "I'm going out," he muttered, grabbing his t-shirt and slinging it over his head.

"Fine, you go out to your amazing town, see what the hell I care," Draco replied scathingly. He crossed his arms.

"Fine, I will!" Harry replied back just as forcefully. It took a moment for him to get his shirt just right.

"Fine," Draco said as coldly as he could. When Harry was all squared away, he stormed towards the door. "Wait!" he called and he heard the footsteps stop. Draco went to a nearby closet and took out a jacket. He went back out to the other and threw it at him in just as fierce of a manner as before. "Wear a jacket, I wouldn't put it past you to get a cold and then I'd have to take care of you."

"Oh, we wouldn't want you to have to do that, now would we?" Harry replied back with narrowed eyes and a growling tone. Draco hissed under his breath and turned his back to him.

"Fine, catch a cold for all I care!" he said then he turned upon his heel and stomped out of the foyer.

"Fine, bye!" Harry shouted and slammed the door. Draco had walked back into the sitting room with the perfect view of Harry storming away. He was pleased to see, at least, that Harry had brought the jacket with him. Finally, when Harry was out of sight, he slumped against one of the couches and put his head in his hands: one gloved and one not.

Within moments he was consumed by pain again, just as blinding as before, but this pain was not only in his hand but also up his arm. When it ended, he saw a fresh amount of scars going all the way up to his pectorals on his right side. The pain was enough to make him nearly black out completely. Yet he remained conscious, and began to weep silent tears.

"Harry," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He looked at his arm and a sob bit out of his mouth. "Harry, I need you."

"What is happening to me?"

* * *

A/N- Review Reply  
Dastardly- I feel bad for Draco as well, and things are just beginning and all...it's not gonna be pretty. I'm gonna write up the next chapter (and maybe the next few ones) because now I have a DEFINATE way this is going to go, and I'm excited :3

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!


	5. Hosanna

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster" 

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: First off, I am EXTREMELY sorry for the delay. I've been extremely busy (I know I hate this excuse too), but I REFUSE to abandon this story. I mean, that sucks, yeah? Anyway, my beta reader is unavailable as of right now. My chapters henceforth will be unbeta'd except by…well…me. And, if you've read some of my previous, I've got horrible grammar. Enjoy anyway and I'll try to publish these chapters quicker.

* * *

Chapter 5: Hosanna

Harry decided that he would pay a visit to the Weasley household this time around, though he did take a longer way around in order to calm himself from the argument that he'd suffered through with Draco. He didn't understand why Draco was so touchy all of the sudden. Sure, Harry might have been leaving the mansion to go out into the real world now, but that didn't explain why Draco wouldn't let Harry take off his glove.

Perhaps he was being childish, Harry thought. After all, the blonde had taken off half of his clothing during their kiss. It wasn't as if Draco was refusing to touch Harry at all. Draco, also, had been rather pleasant that morning, otherwise. Well, he thought, pleasant and _distant._ He hardly knew what to do, not having dealt with a detached Draco since the spell. They were over that.

Weren't they?

Now that his anger had been replaced with concern, he found himself stable enough to enter the house of the famous redheads. He was welcomed with more grandiosity than the Queen of England would probably ever know, or at least enough that Harry had to stay the night. He was unable to lift a finger after all of the food that was consumed, so walking was obviously ruled out for the night, as well as any sort of magical transportation. During that time however, Ginny had not been present. It wasn't until after dinner that the door opened and she stepped in.

"Can you believe it?!" Mrs. Weasley near screamed. "Harry's back!"

Ginny froze in the doorway when she saw Harry sitting with Ron talking over two bottles of liquor. Harry looked up and stared at the red-headed female, and together they held a staring contest between each other. Finally, Ginny broke the gaze by stepping forward, kneeling in front of Harry and touching his shoulder and nearly jumping back when she saw he was really there. "Harry," she said, her voice low her expression shocked, "Harry, what are you doing here?"

Harry straightened himself up on the couch he was perched on, letting the drink settle on the coffee table in front of him. "I'm enjoying the company of my family," he said, as if mildly offended. Ginny just stared at him. Finally he couldn't take the stare anymore. "What?!"

"Is he okay?" the fire haired woman asked quickly, slowly being overcome by panic. Ginny didn't even have to say who. Harry just nodded, but she didn't believe him. Instead, she excused them both from the room and, with a fierce pull and shove, Harry was out of the room followed by Ginny. She pushed him up the stairs and into her room where she slammed the door and locked it, checking that everything was sound proof before she turned to look at her friend. "Now, Harry, answer a few questions. Are you out of your bloody mind? What happened? And most importantly, does Draco know you're gone?"

Now, perhaps if Harry were less intoxicated, he wouldn't normally be one to spill every little thing about him. However, he _was_ intoxicated, so that was neither here nor there.

"First off, I am not out of my mind," he said indignantly, which Ginny merely scoffed and crossed her arms. "I'm not!" She rolled her eyes. "Alright well, I've been getting restless recently. I don't know, I just couldn't handle being in that blasted house anymore, so I told Draco that I wanted to leave once in a while. He agreed finally the other day and I went out. I saw Ron and we went to the pub." He stopped. "Wait do they know about-?"

"No," Ginny interrupted, knowing what he was going to ask. "But the reasons to that can be discussed later. Stop digressing and tell me the story." Harry rolled his eyes and told her up to the part when he left because Draco was being, when it all came down to it, a righteous pain in the arse.

"I just needed to get out of the house for a bit, then I came here. I'll leave in the morning, since I'm too tired to apparate or walk now, especially during the night." he finished off with a shrug. Ginny frowned and started pacing the room. "What?" Then she opened the window and whistled a little bit. Then, down from the heavens, descended an owl which Harry remembered: Hedwig. "Hedwig!" he shouted jumping from his spot on the bed, before landing awkwardly and ended up staggering to his bird on the ledge, where she justifiably bit him hard.

"I think you should at least send Draco a letter, or you'll get more than a bite on your hand when you go back," Ginny said wisely. "You do plan on going back, right?' Harry nodded his head and took out a pen and paper, provided by the red head herself, and wrote a note of where he was. At the bottom he wrote his name with love before it and sent it off, the snowy owl more than glad to get to work.

"I can't believe she's still alive," Harry remarked with a smile watching her leave. He turned his head to look at Ginny. The pensive look remained from on her face and it was enough to make him nervous. "What're you thinking about, Gin?" he asked. She looked up at him and stared at him with narrowed eyes, thinking, before looking away.

"Nothing," she said, though it sounded as if she had more to say. She shook her head. "Anyway, back to your question." Sitting down in front of Harry in a comfortable, and rather convenient, chair, she began. "Well, as I said, the family doesn't know of you and Draco being together, but I have been starting to work at getting another chance for Draco and people like him. Actually I did a rally yesterday in London…hmmm…oh here!" she said, having been rummaging through some papers and finally found one of the Daily Prophet. The headline read "Fiery Supporter of the Dark!" Ginny just chuckled. "It's great isn't it? Many groups are trying to shut me down, saying I'm an abomination to the Order. But, hell, I killed Lucius-fuckin'-Malfoy. If that doesn't get me some credit then bully to them. Anyway," she read through the article and turned a few pages then stopped at a picture. "See? And most of them were there starting to support me now." She folded the paper and sighed. "A lot of wizards and witches were put on trial for their actions during the war, and I understand they should be punished and all…but we lost some of our most valuable workers in the process. If they are, truly, ready to reform, then I say they should let their voices be heard!" 

Harry raised his brows and Ginny just grinned at him before calming down. "Anyway, so I started doing that and finally, since my work is so broad spectrum I had to hire some help. That's where I met this wizard named Eric." Harry tried to search for the name in his thoughts. "He was in Hufflepuff, you wouldn't know him." He tried to protest against the accusation. "Name one," Ginny replied, "other than Cedric." Harry searched his thoughts and, though he knew some of the names of some of the Hufflepuffs it was true. He really didn't know them. That saddened him slightly, that he missed out on meeting people that might really matter now, and might help Draco get out of confinement.

Of course, that was only if Draco started letting _himself_ out of the confining cell of his stupid prejudice.

"So yes, Eric and I have been working on how to get the nameless victims freed and we decided that the best mode was to go with Draco." She held up her hand and counted off the reasons with her fingers. "One, he's famous for being a prominent Death Eater's son. Two, we know him. And Three, he'd be the most willing." It was by this time that Harry looked down with a heavy sigh. "What?"

"I wouldn't count on the third one," he said finally. Ginny stared at him in confusion. "Well you see…the reason that we fought in the first place was because he didn't want to leave the house. He doesn't want to get sent to Azkaban which is understandable of course." Then he frowned and heaved another sigh. "But I think it's also because, deep down, he doesn't feel like he could conform to a society where he was equal to everyone else, in blood at least."

"Oh," Ginny said looking slightly stunned then groaning. "Great, more work we have to do."

"We?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ginny said with a nod. "We. Eric, you, and I are going to beat some sense into that good for nothing-," but her tirade was stopped by a concerned look in her direction. She bit her lip. "Yes, I did tell Eric about Draco and you, but that was the only person, I swear!" She swallowed nervously. "You see, I needed to tell someone and I waited until I could find someone I could really trust and really wants to see people free just as much as I do. I swear, Harry, you can trust him." Harry looked at her doubtfully.

"This is Draco's life we're talking about here, Ginny." He said sounding more than a bit concerned. "I don't want to see the man I love endangered because you put your trust in someone with his life. You must promise me he won't exploit Draco until it's the right time."

"Harry, come on you can trust me," Ginny said, getting up and sitting next to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed in a one-armed hug. "Both of us want to see Draco free just as much as you do. And maybe that would make him a bit more cheerful as well. You know, with the whole glove thing." She looked up a moment. "You know that's really weird. Why would he do that?." Harry shrugged. If he'd known, he thought, they wouldn't have been fighting in the first place. "Bah, whatever, we'll worry about it tomorrow. Until then, why don't we just go to bed and I'll owl Eric and by morning we'll be back off to the Manor to get some of these problems straightened out." She grinned at Harry. "Harry, you'll live a normal life again."

Harry got up and nodded with a small wave of goodnight towards Ginny as he stumbled towards his old room and locked the door falling unto his bed which had given him comfort for so many years. "Yeah," he finally sighed before taking his glasses off and drifting off, feeling unbelievably cold the entire night, unable to hear the sounds of pain, suffering, and unearthly sadness of the captured soul in Malfoy Manor.

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Read and Review, please. 


	6. When You Come Home to Me

**Title: **"Naught but a Monster"

**Summary:** Sequel to "Beauty is the Beast". Sometimes the Ever After of Happily Ever After only lasts so long. Sometimes dreams are short lived, and nightmares resurrected.

**Warnings: **Slash!, Cursing, um…I'm not sure what will happen later but you never know. Also I sort of drift from the Canon description which J.K. has so beautifully written to fit my own story, using her characters to my benefit. So…be aware.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, or anything that J.K. Rowling or Scholastic or Warner Bros. publishes, except in the copies of movies and books which I keep in obvious view.

**Author's Note**: Once again, this chapter is UN-beta'd, though I really tried my hardest! This one's a little longer than usual too which is nice. I want to thank those who reviewed and favorited this story, you make me feel great!

* * *

Chapter Six: When You Come Home to Me. 

The coldness never wore off, so multiple times through the night; he gathered more blankets until his bed looked more like a mountain. By dawn the next morning, he'd given up and put all of the blankets away except for the first one he'd had. Since Harry had gotten enough sleep to function, he reckoned that he might as well get out of bed. He took a shower and cleaned off his clothing with a simple cleansing incantation before putting them back on. He went down the stairs for breakfast and met Mrs. Weasley, making breakfast already, even though light was just beginning to make its appearance in the sky.

"Oh, hello Harry dear," she said, glancing at him a moment before resuming her morning task. "Harry," she asked as she hefted a heap of sausage unto a pan, "could you be a dear, and throw out the garbage?"(1) He looked at the garbage then back at Mrs. Weasley. This was one of the things he loved about her, that no matter how long you're gone, when you return you are still a member of the family and have to do whatever she says. He nodded and got up to take it out.

When he was outside, he threw the bag into a larger sort of trash container and wiped his hands when he was done. Staring out at the world that surrounded the Weasley's home, he thought he would remember each tree, each blade of grass, and each flower that'd touched his skin at one point or another. But, as he looked around, there were the same trees and the same grass and flowers, but he couldn't remember them for what they seemed before. Before, they'd been a sign of his home and a chance as a family. The trees gave him a childhood again as, throughout his boring trek as a business man (he wondered what happened with that) he would climb them if only for a break on a low branch. However, now it was a mere sense of nostalgia. No matter how long he'd lived there, and how much he adored the people inside, he wasn't home anymore. The trees, all they could do was remind him of the forest: _they're _forest.

A shiver ran up his spine as he remembered just how much he really did miss Draco. Even if he was just out for a day or so, there was a sense of longing that only the blonde could fill; an urgency of touch that only Draco could fix. He knew he'd only be gone for another hour or so before he would be, again, in Draco's arms.

When Harry went back inside, the smell of food was overwhelming, so he quickly walked to the kitchen. There, he saw not only Mrs. Weasley, but Ginny and another person as well, eating sausages and eggs. The man was handsome, and that was to say the least. His skin was dark and his features spread out on his face. With hair that was shaven near to his scalp, you could just see that it was almost as dark as the rest of him. He was built like an auror, and reminded Harry slightly of Shacklebolt. He dressed fairly muggle, though Harry thought his shirt was a little _too_ tight, showing off the muscles he'd earned that were _definitely_ not from the work that Ginny had given. Probably his most interesting feature was his green eyes. They weren't as green as Harry's, since they were flecked with browns and yellows, but it was not to be said that it made them any less noticeable. He began laughing at something Ginny said and his teeth looked immaculate.

It was then that he took a glance at Ginny. Her animated speaking was heightened and she was grinning like a child. Looking between the two of them, he smiled, and wondered what would be in the future for these two. Clearing his throat, they both looked up and Ginny's smile widened and the other man looked curious. "Hey, Harry," she said getting up and hugging him. "How was your sleep?" Harry lied easily and said that it was fine. "Good," she said with a grin, "this is Erik, the man who's going to help us. Erik, this, is Harry Potter."

He was tall too, Harry noticed, as the dark man stood and near towered over Ginny and had a few good inches on him. He walked over and held out a hand. It was large and slightly calloused looking. Harry took it up with his own hand and saw how small it looked in comparison. However, the smile on Erik's face was enough to take him off the edge and ease into the other man's obvious kindness.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said in a deep voice that vibrated into the floor. It was a pleasant voice, one that you wouldn't mind listening to on the radio for a long time. His smile radiated his face and gave him an altogether kind and cheerful disposition. Without even any proof he should, Harry believed that Erik would be trustworthy enough to handle this situation.

"Alright, it's time to go," Ginny said. Before they could even move a muscle, Mrs. Weasley stopped them.

"Hold it right there," she commanded, "Harry still has to eat breakfast." The three of them looked amongst each other and they quickly went back to the table and, while the other two finished their meal, Harry was given a fresh plate of eggs and sausage. As he ate it, he once again glorified the cooking of Mrs. Weasley. However, a small seed planted and grew in his stomach, missing the unique dishes that Draco would make for him. He took a few healthy bites of Mrs. Weasley's food before determining that he'd had enough.

The other two did as well and, with Mrs. Weasley's consent, they were allowed to leave the table. It surprised him slightly that, even though he was an adult he could still feel like a teenage miscreant with Mrs. Weasley around. With no belongings of his own to carry home, he looked around for Hedwig, but realized that she hadn't come back and he had to resign himself to that fact. They set off back to Malfoy Mansion.

* * *

Draco had been lying in their bed for many hours of the day, most of the time sleeping off the aching pain he got whenever he moved his upper body. By the time it was evening, Draco was starting to get a little worried. Where was Harry?

Time went even further and Draco was beginning to panic. Where the hell was he? He looked throughout the entire house, knowing he wouldn't be inside and that he was alone in the large mansion, but it was better than sitting by the window and waiting for his beckoned call. He'd made the mistake of walking past a mirror and realizing that he was near topless from their encounter earlier. He stared at his arm and felt even further panic pool in his gut. What if Harry had come back during his nap and seen Draco and ran off in disgust? He ran into his bedroom and checked the drawers, but saw that all of Harry's clothes were still there.

Still, it didn't mean that Harry hadn't come back. To make up for the chance, Draco searched through his clothing and found a shirt to slip on. His mutated arm made it more difficult for him to do so, muscles rippling out of the hazardous flesh once again, but he still managed it. After that he looked in the mirror again. He looked awkward, as if he was a bit lopsided. He looked around again and saw in Harry's closet a large sweatshirt. Draco hated seeing Harry wear that atrocious garment, since it hid so much of him. However, that's exactly what Draco needed and, not thinking Harry would mind, he took it out of the closet and slipped it on.

Then he was back to wondering where Harry was. It was actually starting to really irk him. Why wasn't Harry home?! It was 9:30 in the evening, yet still there was no sign of Harry. He was beginning to give up hope when he heard a rapping at the window and looked out to see a white owl.

He stared at it. What was an owl doing here? Had someone discovered his hiding place? Swallowing thick, he courageously opened the window and let the bird fly in. He recognized the bird from somewhere, but he couldn't place a finger on it until he finally took the letter and opened it. When he saw Harry's writing, he felt relieved that at least he was alright.

He wasn't coming home that night.

Something clenched in his heart, something that he hadn't known existed, and he gently lay down the piece of paper on his bed. He slowly lowered himself to the mattress and stared out of the balcony window. Harry was enjoying himself out in the real world, so he left Draco so he could be a part of it if only for a little longer.

Was Harry _that_ miserable with him? He felt his eyes beginning to sparkle with something then wiped at them quickly. Fine, Draco thought: fine, fine, fine, fine, _fine!_ If Harry had to go elsewhere to find enjoyment then he just shouldn't come back anymore. Draco didn't mind being alone, ha! What was so wrong with having a solitary life? He could handle it. He would handle it.

And when that smarmy bastard came home, he'd tell him that right to his face.

The owl pecked at his hand and Draco looked at the bird. She was a beautiful thing to behold, and realized that it must have been that…Heady….Heffner….Hedwig! That's right, the owl that Harry had in Hogwarts. He reached out to pat her head and she pushed her head into his hand so he could give her a firm scratching. Smiling, he did so then got up to find out if they still had any owl treats left. Finding out that there was nothing, he decided to cook her something.

Taking the bird with him, he went down the stairs and into the kitchen. He took out a piece of bread and some peanut butter and then set it on the table. Hedwig cooed happily and began picking at it. He also left her out a piece of sausage then walked away to let her do as she would. He sat out on the couch and put his head into his hands.

"I can do this. If he doesn't need me, I don't need him," he told himself. He repeated it over and over, hoping it would stick, but he only got more and more upset. He stood up and kicked at a couch that toppled over as soon as he set his foot to it. Slumping back into his own seat, he leaned back and looked out the window at the starry sky. In a fit of despairing rage, he leapt from his seat and went to the door, opening it fast and hard enough that a sound bang rang out when it hit the wall.

"I don't need you, Potter!" he screamed. "You can rot with all of the other stupid muggle-lovers. Go laugh and have your stupid parties and enjoy yourself because you know what? I don't care!"

He'd run out to the edge of the path that led to the forest and stopped. He looked at the trees that were above his head and stepped back with a gasp. "I don't need you," he said, quieter, the trees frightening him. He kept walking back but it felt like the trees kept coming. They whispered in voices on the wind. Whispers that Draco couldn't understand, but still with sounds that made him revert back into the house. He shut the door quietly and leaned against it, his gut feeling sick and his whole body shaking at the fright he'd felt staring into those trees.

Was Harry right? Was he simply becoming a coward? He couldn't swallow his mouth was so dry so he shakily made his way to the kitchen. He cleaned up the mess that Hedwig made and got himself a glass of water. He drank it down swiftly, which made his stomach hurt even worse. Deciding to go to bed, he quickly made his way up to his room. Everything seemed so frightening now, now that he was alone. Even the shadows creeping throughout the house gave him a sense of dread.

When he reached the bed that night, he didn't sleep until the morning sun began to light up the sky. And even then, there was no sleep for him. Instead, throughout the night, he stayed awake, staring out the window, and stroking the feathers of the owl, who was the only one who seemed to care.

When the sun came out, Draco still didn't move from his spot on the mattress, where he looked out the window. The owl had fallen asleep during the night, under the soothing strokes of Draco's still normal hand. When he removed his fingers from her feathers, she awoke and ruffled her wings before starting to clean herself off. He looked underneath her and wrinkled his nose at what she left during the night. Interrupting her cleaning and moving her to perch on the headboard, he took the sheets off of the bed and threw them off in a corner to rot somewhere.

Now that he was up, he sluggishly walked towards the linen closet and picked out one of the hundreds of extra sheets and went back to the room. His arm felt back to normal, though less flexible and coordinated as before, but his arm wasn't normal. He stared at it in the mirror before sighing and setting the bed to look clean and orderly. It didn't take long, but once it was done it looked ten times better than it had most of the week, when neither of the boys had taken it upon themselves to clean anything.

Harry. He hadn't forgotten about Harry all night. Was he going to be back today? He wondered this as he went off to shower. When he did so, he didn't even bother to touch his arm and, in fact, did his best to ignore the ligament all together. When he was finished, he withdrew Harry's sweatshirt from the pile of clothes and threw the rest in the corner where the sheets were to, eventually, get cleaned. He shoved on another shirt, which was soon covered by the large sweatshirt that he still abhorred. With boxers and pants soon accompanying his bottom portion, he decided that breakfast would be the best course of action to follow up with.

Hedwig followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. He decided that a simple plate of eggs would be enough for him. When he took one out, however, the owl seemed offended. "Alright, alright," he said, putting the bird eggs back and looking around for something else. He felt too tired to really cook anything so he went for what was reserved to be used only when desperate: Cheerios. Grabbing the milk carton, a bowl, and a spoon, he set them on the table. He poured the milk into the bowl then put the carton away before getting the less than savored Cheerios box. He poured the cereal into the milk filled bowl and filled it to the brim before putting the box back. When he got back to the table, the bird was already picking at his cereal.

"Hey you, that's mine!" he said to the bird. Hedwig only looked up and backed away. Then, slowly, she reached her beak out to sneak another one into her mouth. Rolling his eyes, Draco went to the table and joined her. Every few bites, he let Hedwig have a turn, not caring for how unsanitary it might be to dine with a mangy owl. When the breakfast was done, he carried her out to a window. "You need to get back home, missy," he told her quietly. He reached out and stroked her feathers again and she cooed happily. Opening the window he reached out his arm. She crawled back and nipped his cheek happily before going to the extension of his arm and flying off.

For a moment, Draco watched the bird take wing and fly off.

For a moment, Draco wished he could be like that bird, and fly away too. He wished that he could make Harry happy and just do as he asked. Draco wished that he could finally just let go of what he believed in.

But a moment's just a moment, and like any moment, it ends. The flicker of hopeless emotion filled with unexpected longing was vanished out of sight. Shutting the window, he dumped the rest of his cereal and washed the bowl, leaving it to dry on the rack.

Then he heard the door open and a voice call out.

"Draco, I'm home, where are you?!"

Draco rushed out of the room. He had so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to scream. Ask me where _I_ am?! When I had to wait for you to _finally_ send me an owl that you weren't even coming home that night? That's rich! Yet he didn't. He just ran. He ran to the front of the house to see Harry and felt a flood of relief that he really was okay. He was about to say more when another person entered the house.

"Hey, Draco," Ginny said with a smile. "Long time no see hm?" Draco stared at her then looked down at himself. He was hardly presentable for company, even if it was just Ginny, though he thanked the stars he remembered to put on his glove again this morning. Just as he was about to ask what was going on, another person entered as well.

And this time, Draco had no idea who he was.

"Who is this?" he asked, sounding shocked yet demanding at the sight of this tall dark man in his house that he'd never seen in his life before.

"Draco," Harry said. "This is Erik." Said person smiled and gave a short wave that Draco guessed he thought made him look fun or nice or something. "He's here to help."

The blonde's mind stopped. Help? He looked at Harry at that and his brow slowly furrowed while his eyes began to narrow. "Help?" Draco asked. "With what?" Harry sighed. "Harry," he said, demanding an answer.

"You know with what," Harry finally said. Draco shook his head and stepped away from them.

"Harry, I don't need help with anything," he said, sounding puzzled. He looked at Erik and saw him looking around the house with a curious gaze. He didn't like that gaze. He didn't like that he was there. He didn't like _him_ and he was in _his _house because of Harry. "Harry, get him out."

"No," Harry said. Draco looked at him pleadingly but Harry remained firm. "Come on, Draco. Ginny trusts him."

"But I don't, and it's my home," he replied swiftly.

"Draco, he's staying. Now, we're going to- Draco where are you going? Draco!" The blonde had left the presence of the company, against all of his Malfoy principles, and started up the stairs. In fact, he began to run up the stairs and slammed the door behind him when he reached the sanctuary of his room.

He was too angry to deal with company right now. Not only had Harry left and not come back for a whole day, leaving Draco alone with a stupid bird, but he'd also made Draco look so…small. This was _his _house, for fuck's sake, and there goes Harry telling _him_ who could be in their house? How would Harry like it if Draco just happened to invite an old death eater companion for tea? He wouldn't like it at all, that's how he would like it. Draco was still seething when Harry entered the room. As the door was opening, Draco decided to make it just a little more difficult for Harry to get to him and walked outside unto the balcony of their room. Shutting the glass door behind him, he leaned against the railing and looked down.

Nostalgia crept back into his thoughts as Harry opened the door and stood beside him. "Draco, why are you being so difficult?" he asked. Draco turned to look at him, and could only feel defeat as he looked into that ignorant gaze. Harry wouldn't understand how Draco felt, and that knowledge made him feel just that much more alone.

* * *

Harry had apologized for Draco's behavior to both Ginny and Erik. They both didn't say anything, though Ginny looked like she might have something to input. Instead, he led them to the kitchen which looked mercifully clean, and had a pot of tea going for them before he went up the stairs to try and bring Draco back downstairs.

He opened the bedroom door just as the outer door shut. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew that Draco was probably irked that he'd gone again, but why did he have to be such a baby about it? Harry cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders back before opening the door and shutting it quietly behind him. Walking up beside him, he saw the blonde looking downwards and wondered what he could be thinking. "Draco, why are you being so difficult?" he asked, feeling exasperated. Draco looked up at him.

And for the first time in a while, he was able to see what was written on his face: anger, yes, but also betrayal, desperation, and defeat. It made Harry step back at the intensity of his gaze.

"I actually think I'm handling it very well," he replied, looking back out and away from Harry. Harry couldn't help it and let out a snort of air through his nose. Running away from their company was not a way to handle a situation well. Draco's eyes hardened. "Oh fine, laugh," he said, angrily. "Then, when I'm done amusing you, you can hop along downstairs and tell them more about whatever it is you want to do to me then bloody well leave me alone."

Harry blinked. "Draco, I'm not laughing at you. I'm sorry okay?" Draco scoffed. "I don't get it, what did I do wrong?" he asked. Draco looked up at him in a way that might have been hilarious if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Are you seriously…?" Draco said then he pressed his lips in a fine line and his eyes hardened like steel. "I'll tell you what you've done wrong, Potter," he spat, making Harry flinch a bit. "First, you didn't come home at all last night. I get to worry for the entire day about what happened to you. Did you get hurt? Did you get kidnapped? Did you leave forever? Then I get a stupid little note from you're little owl friend saying "Oh, by the way, I'm okay and I'm staying at the Weasley's. Love you, Harry." Now Draco was on a roll and he wasn't planning on stopping there. "So last night, still worrying about you, I didn't get to sleep and I had to share my bed with a bloody pigeon!" He waved his arms in the air and stomped away from him before turning back. "And the greatest part is that that's the least upsetting thing that's happened!"

"Draco, calm down," Harry said, getting nervous at how loud Draco was getting.

"No!" Draco replied. "You asked me what was wrong, Potter, and now I'm bloody well going to tell you and you better listen. So, it's morning and you're _still_ gone somewhere. Due to my tiredness I had to resort to eating that blasted cereal junk and share it with that stupid bird. Then, you come home and I'm ready to yell your head off already and what do you do? You bring people into my house who I don't even _know!" _

"Are you wearing my sweatshirt?" Harry finally inquired.

"That's all you have to say? After all of that you're just worried about your stupid sweatshirt? Did you listen to anything I _said?!"_

"Of course I did, you brat. I just know for a fact that you hate that sweatshirt, why are you wearing it?" Harry asked, looking irritated and tired as well.

"It was cold; it was the warmest thing I could find."

"Draco, it's twenty one degrees (2) outside."

"Well, it's colder inside. You wear my clothes all the time!"

"I know, but you rarely wear mine."

"What does it matter? I'm wearing it and that's that." Draco, in a fit of frustration, raised his arms in the air, revealing his wrists slightly, enough for Harry to see something other than pale skin.

"Draco what happened to your arm?" he said, rushing closer to him. Draco looked up in surprise then at his arm. "Draco. Why are you wearing my sweatshirt?"

"Nothing I just fell okay? I'm fine. I just wanted to wear it," Draco said, moving back more towards the balcony ledge.

"You're not fine, it looked bad. What happened?" he said trying to reach Draco's arm.

"Let go of me!" Draco demanded, trying to shake him off.

"No, what's going on?" Harry barked back.

"I said get _off _of me!" Draco said and shoved him as hard as he could away from him, and was shocked when Harry near flew to the other wall. He stared and looked at his hands. More memories of his added strength and visions of when he was the monster impaled his mind like a spear. He'd never had much strength before that, and had often thrown and kicked things that he wouldn't even be able to lift in his normal state. He remembered kicking down the couch last night, and he fell into the railing of the balcony. "I'm sorry," he whispered sliding down so he was sitting.

Harry was staring back at Draco with just as much shock as Draco had. He didn't reply at first. "Draco?" he whispered to the now shivering blonde. The steel grey eyes were looking at Harry with such a hazy confusion that the thoughts of his slight ache in his legs and back seemed to ebb away being replaced by worry.

"Maybe you should stay with the Weasleys," he heard the other murmur. He watched as Draco began standing. "I mean, they…they're nice to you right?" Harry nodded vaguely though the other couldn't see it as he stood up and looked back out to the rooftops of the other parts of the mansion. "It was here, you remember? You saved my life right here." He shut his eyes. "And I nearly killed you here."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Harry said standing up. He walked over to the other and wrapped his arm around his waist. "Draco, babe, look at me," he said, turning the other around. "It's okay, you were mad, and we all do crazy things when we're angry. Are you mad anymore?" Draco stared at him and shrugged.

"I guess not."

"Good. Now, why don't we go downstairs? We won't talk about anything you don't want to talk about. We're just having a bit of tea with friends, okay?"

Draco looked at Harry, unsure of whether it was a good idea or not. For one, Draco still had no idea who that man was, but he reasoned that he may never know if he didn't go down there and sort out the sort of person he was.

And maybe, the man would help him get back to normal before Harry got more curious. He finally nodded and was rewarded a smile from Harry that made his heart melt.

Harry reached around his neck and massaged there with his forefinger and thumb before dragging his fingers down Draco's pointed chin. "I love you," he whispered with a smile. Draco felt his lips tug up slightly and then they closed the distance with a kiss, before Harry led them back downstairs.

With each step, Draco hoped beyond hope that Harry was right.

* * *

A/N- (1) I know that this isn't what the English say, but I'm American…so please deal with it.

(2)- Celsius

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